


Too Old for This

by Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me



Series: Destiel/ Cockles Shorts [19]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Flirting, Fluff and Crack, Grumpy Misha, Humor, M/M, On Set, Pranks and Practical Jokes, loving jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 12:06:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4705451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me/pseuds/Castiel_Left_His_Mark_On_Me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha has had just about enough of Jensen and Jared's shit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Too Old for This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mnwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnwood/gifts).



> This was a prompt for the lovely [Mnwood](http://mnwood.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. She wanted some grumpy Misha ... so she got grumpy Misha.

            The trailer door nearly crashes into Jensen’s nose but Misha can’t bring himself to care quite yet.

            “Mish! _C’mon now_ , hold on!”

            “You two are children! Overgrown _,_ overly stimulated, self-centered _children!”_ Misha shouts, storming into the small bathroom to look himself over in the mirror.

            “It was _just a prank_ , man … it’ll wash out.”

            “ _It better!”_ Misha spits, still not looking back at the man even though he can feel Jensen standing in the doorway beside him. A closer inspection in the mirror shows the true extent of the damage—streaks and splotches of gray are now running across his head and smearing against his hairline. Misha groans loudly before turning on the water from the sink and running his hands beneath it, lifting them up again to try to rub the silver dye from his skin. “It’s _not_ coming off!” he growls after another moment, scrubbing harder until his forehead is turning red.

            “Maybe you need to use shampoo” Jensen offers and Misha finally glares at him, watching as the guy bites his lip to try and stifle another laugh.

            “Something _funny_?” he hisses, shoving his fists down against the porcelain of the sink.

            Jensen chuckles some more, finally having to hide his mouth behind his hand. He clears his throat after another beat and tries once again to compose himself. “You just … you look so distinguished!” He’s sputtering out another laugh just as Misha grits his teeth.

            “You can go fuck yourself _anytime_ now.”

            Jensen’s smile tilts around the edges as he nestles in closer, pressing between Misha and the door. “Mish … _c’mon,_ it’s not _that_ bad.”

            “ _Jensen_ , I look like I’m eighty” Misha barks, soaking his hands again to make another attempt at removing the dye.

            “ _So_ … you look your age for once, what’s the big deal?”

            “You _really_ want to make this worse?” Misha hisses, whipping around to stare Jensen down.

            The green eyed man grins wide before throwing up his hands in surrender. “Okay … okay … _sorry_. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

            Misha huffs and turns back to the mirror.

            “… lighten it like we did, _your hair.”_

            “Okay, _you know what!_ ” Misha growls, finally having enough of the smartass that’s trespassing in his trailer. If Jensen and Jared were going to make him _look_ like a grumpy old man, then he may as well act like it! He quickly reaches back and grabs at Jensen’s collar, spinning the man round and shoving him out the bathroom door. “You’re leaving! You are getting out of my trailer and _out of_ my sight before I make Danneel a widow, and leave your child _fatherless!_ ”

            Jensen is laughing with each stumbling step he takes—apparently finding his forcible removal, _hilarious_. The sound does nothing but irk Misha all the more, making him jab at Jensen’s back with his nails. As they reach the trailer door, he yanks the giggling man away so he can lunge forward for the handle, but before Misha can manage to grab it, his _so-called_ friend is pulling him in close, synching their bodies together in a hug. “Now, now, Mish … you don’t _really_ want to throw me out, do you?” Jensen hums, doing his best to lean in a nuzzle the man’s ear; but Misha is thrashing against him too much to really let the gesture land.

            “ _No_ … I want to _kick_ you out, or _punch_ you out, or _run you out_ with my car!”

            Searing hot blues look up into smiling greens—all soft moss and sweet grass. “ _Aww_ , you certainly know how to make a guy feel special.”

            “You’re _special_ , Jensen … just not in the way you’re thinking” Misha grits out, still wriggling against the other man’s hold.

            Jensen’s small laugh stills him a moment, _which of course_ , only causes the guy squeeze tighter. “Keep up the sweet talk, Mr. and you may just make me stay _all nig_ ht.”

            “ _Oh god!”_ Misha groans, trying even harder to break free.

            “ _I know!_ I’m excited too!” Jensen chirps, finally getting lucky and planting a kiss against Misha’s temple.

            “Jensen … _I’m serious_. Let me go so I can take a _god damn_ shower! I still have a scene to shoot today and I certainly can’t go in looking like _this!”_ Misha says, making a stunted gesture towards his own head—Jensen’s flexing arms, getting in the way.

            “Why not? Everyone will see Cas as some majestic, silver stallion!” Jensen chuckles, letting one hand break free from around Misha’s waist in order to run firm fingers through the salt and peppered hair.

            Misha growls again, batting Jensen’s hand away now that he has an opening. With a quick spin, he whips around the man and makes his move back to the bathroom, with all the intent of turning on the shower and hopefully getting back to normal—but Jensen appears yet again, now wrapping him up from behind. “Jensen! _Let me go!_ I need to try and wash this shit out! I … I don’t even know how you managed to do this, anyway! What the fuck are you two— _wizards?_ ”

            Jensen laughs, low and gritty in his ear. “ _Nah_ … just a couple of bored dudes with Amazon Prime and a little creativity.”

            “More like a couple of _assholes_ with too much time on their hands and no impulse control!”

            Jensen hugs Misha in closer, burying his face into the curve of the man’s neck—kissing lightly up the strained tendons, making them soften in spite of Misha’s still throbbing rage. “Tomato, _tomahto_.”

            “ _Asshole, asshole_ ” Misha spits back, silently cursing the pleasant shiver that rolls down his spine as Jensen moves up to his ear.

            “You usually seem to _like_ assholes” Jensen coos, giving a quick lick to Misha’s now burning skin.

            The trapped man lets out a heavy breath—his hands starting to fall from where they’ve been gripping the handle of the shower door. “I’m starting to change my mind” he attempts, already hearing the softness crawl across voice.

            “Well … _that’s just not true_ ; you really shouldn’t lie like that, Mish.”

            Rough hands begin to slide over his stomach and up his chest, and Misha can’t help but shut his eyes as Jensen scoots in closer behind him, rubbing his broad body against his back – soft and tender, like there’s no place in the world he’d rather be. Misha makes a last ditch effort to put some edge in his tone. “Yeah … _well_ , you shouldn’t fuck with your elders. You’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

            “I wouldn’t want _that_ ” Jensen whispers, warm and deep into his ear. “I kinda want to keep you around.”

            Misha sighs. “I really hate you” he moans futilely, finally giving in and letting his head fall back onto Jensen’s shoulder.

            “No you don’t.”

            “ _Fine_ … I severely dislike you.”

            “That’s not true either.”

            “I _tolerate_ you at best.”

            Jensen chuckles just before backing away slowly and turning Misha around—kind eyes dancing over blue like a ballet. He ducks down, catching the older man’s lowering head, bringing it back up with a soft kiss. “I think I can work with that” he sings against parted lips.

            Misha smiles, rolling his eyes after they break away again, snorting at the all-too-sweet response. “Yeah, well … _whatever_. Can I shower now?”

            With another laugh, Jensen nods, reaching around Misha’s shoulder to pop open the shower door and turn on the water for him—neck straining as he stretches his fingers into the wet to make sure the temperature is just right.

            Misha stands a little straighter, approving of the gesture— _after all_ , it’s the _least_ the guy can do after everything he just did to him.

            “ _Alright_ …” Jensen hums, an even wider grin breaking across his face as he turns back to ruffle a hand through Misha’s splotchy hair. “In you go, _my silver stallion._ ”

            “ _Get out_.”


End file.
